


you came to tell me something i already know

by zauberer_sirin



Series: Things We Said [2]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Future Fic, Hospitalization, Love Confessions, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-17
Updated: 2015-11-17
Packaged: 2018-05-02 04:17:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5233808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zauberer_sirin/pseuds/zauberer_sirin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>12. things you said when you thought i was asleep </i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	you came to tell me something i already know

**Author's Note:**

  * For [nausicaa_of_phaeacia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nausicaa_of_phaeacia/gifts).



> Title from Laura Marling's "Breathe".

"I love you."

To her credit he himself isn't sure if he was hearing that or imagining it, the drugs beginning to work his body confused and loose, the loss of blood doing the rest. He even thinks he might be dead.

There are witnesses, but Daisy doesn't seem to care about that. 

Someone says "he can't hear you, he's already under" and Coulson recognizes Bobbi's voice, recognizes that tinge that sometimes makes her sound like the oldest person in a room. He wonders why she's here, then remembers his own rescue. He's glad someone is with Daisy, hopes Bobbi is running a loving hand across Daisy's back, hopes neither of them is hurt.

Daisy doesn't seem to pay attention to Bobbi's warning, though – Coulson knows he is being pushed in a gurney somewhere but it's like he has no control over his body and as much as he tries to open his eyes to see the scene he fails – because she repeats immediately it.

"I love you."

Coulson hears the doctors talking over her, and his voices are unfamiliar so he can't make out the words, can't tell by the delivery if he is alive or not, if he will have a change to ever say it back or not. He took a bullet – not for her, but _because of her_ , like some ironic debt he still owed Daisy. The pain in his head and then how it turns into numbness and he doesn't know it's because the bullet grazed him or went through.

"Hang on, hang on, I love you."

She's is more honest than he was.

Coulson knows he's not supposed to be hearing it, those words in Daisy's hoarse and breaking voice, and he's probably supposed to think she means it as a friend or a beloved mentor or anything else than the hope that stings right in the place where Loki stabbed him through. He's not supposed to think she means it _like that_ , but he knows Daisy, he knows that voice, he loves that voice too much to not realize.

"I love you."

Nothing has ever made as much sense to him as this.

"I love you."

He knows she believes he's unconscious – and he is not sure he isn't – but god, if he pulls through he is never, ever going to forget how that sounds.

 

+

 

When he wakes up he decides he's not going to bring it up in front of her. She probably needs time until she can say it again. At first he's sure he imagined the whole scene but then he spends a while watching Daisy, the way she smiles at him when she realizes he's awake, the way the dark under her eyes tell a story of not having slept in at least three days, the way the nurses look at her with resignation, the way her glances follows every movement from or around Coulson.

He knows he didn't imagine it.

He knows that even if he had imagined Daisy telling him she loved him it'd still be true anyway.

He tries to touch the outline of his ear, not getting much of a feeling, remembering what happened – the gunshot, _her face_ for that split of second before Coulson passed out – but his arm is too sore to reach. He gives Daisy a hopeless look, begging her to fill in the gaps.

"It's still there," she says, face bright with happiness to be telling him the good news. "Barely so, though."

"It would be a bad habit," Coulson tells her. "Losing body parts every time things get rough."

Daisy laughs, then "Don't joke about that."

He thinks of pointing out she's the one who laughed but he doesn't have the heart.

She keeps staring at him with those eyes.

He would love to hear it again, what she said, and hopes he will have time, wonder if he'll have time.

"I'm okay. Am I not?" he asks.

He can't feel most of his body yet, and he trusts Daisy to tell her the truth, painful as it might be.

She nods very slowly and very solemnly.

"You're very lucky."

 _More than you think I know_.

They stay in silence for a moment, but it's so easy and so bright. Daisy keeps staring at him like he's a miracle.

Then:

"I have to pee," she says.

He smiles because he understands, she probably hasn't wanted to leave his side for hours and hours.

"Okay," he tells her, nodding, think _I'm not going anywhere, not now_.

"I love you," Daisy says.

It takes him by surprise. He was willing to wait a while to hear that again, or he was willing to wait forever. He had underestimated Daisy, thinking that it was just an impulsive confession prompted by fear and that she would like to pretend it never happened. Maybe it was impulsive but she is obviously not going back on it.

Daisy gives him a tilted, melancholic smile, like she's half-bracing herself for rejection and she doesn't really mind because the important part is that he knows. Generous, brave, sad Daisy.

"I'm sorry I chose to say it right after the pee thing," she says.

Coulson tries to chuckle but it comes out as a strained noise so he tries smiling next. He would want to lean over and kiss her or take her in his arms but his body can't obey those orders yet and the throbbing pain in his head might kill him if he moves at all. He makes a compromise – promises himself that if he ever recovers he'll never stop touching her or saying the words back for the rest of his life – and manages to reach his right hand and wrap it around hers, fingers gripping as tight as he can through the opposition of painkillers and bruises, and it's not much of a grip, but he hopes it's enough to hold her.

"No, no, don't apologize," he shakes his head. "That was _perfect_."


End file.
